Where's My F*cking Latte?: Book Preview

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WHAT IS IT LIKE TO BE A HOLLYWOOD ASSISTANT?

Welcome to the best worst job in the world…

DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS… Every movie and TV star has one. So does every agent and manager. Some producers and studio execs have two or even three. I'm talking about an assistant. Someone to answer your phones, pick up your dry cleaning. Someone to hide your drugs. Your assistant knows what you eat, who you're sleeping with and what medications you're taking. They listen in on your phone calls. They are the eyes and ears of Hollywood… and occasionally they talk. Culled from dozens of interviews with former and current Hollywood assistants, Where's My F*cking Latte is a no-holds barred insider's look at what really goes on behind Tinseltown's closed doors.

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The Guest Star (GS)

We had a really cool GS on our TV show one week and since I had been a big fan of his for years, I practically begged to get the assignment to drive him.

The first day I picked him up, I was a bit nervous and didn't say much but he was pretty cool and we talked a little bit when I drove him home. I told him what time I'd be picking him up the next morning and I gave him my cell number just in case something came up.

On the second day we're in the middle of the twenty-five minute drive from his house to our soundstage when he says he has to pee. I tell him I can stop at a fast food joint nearby but he's very hesitant to do so. Instead he sees the half-full Snapple bottle sitting in my cup holder that had been there for days. He grabs it, empties the rest of my peach iced tea out the window and then proceeds to whip out his dick in my car.

"Don't look," he's telling me. I think he's just fucking around and I'm laughing so hard I'm afraid I'm going to get us into an accident.

Without spilling a drop, he fills up the bottle. He twists the cap back on and holds it in his lap the rest of the drive. It's such a weird moment that we don't even talk about it during the rest of the ride.

When we get to the lot, I park by the stage and he slips his pee-filled bottle back into my cup holder as he's getting out of my car. He thinks I don't notice but I do.

Later on, I tell a buddy of mine, another PA, about what happened. He practically falls down in stitches. He kids me that I should put the GS's pee up on Ebay. It becomes a running gag, for the rest of the day whenever we see each other.

"What's the high bid?"

"Last I saw it was twenty bucks."

"I heard it might go to twenty five."

And so it goes, all day long until it's up around eight hundred and fifty bucks in our little joke by the end of the day.

That night I got pulled off onto another job and someone else drove the GS home. But I guess that person must have told him something because as I'm driving home late from work, I get an angry call from the GS. He starts yelling at me that I better take his bottle of pee off of Ebay or he's going to hurt me physically and financially. I mean, he's really blowing a gasket. When I finally get a word in edgewise, I try to explain it was just a joke and that I never put his bottle up for auction. He told me that when I picked him up in the morning I better have the bottle with me to show him that I still had it. I told him fine and hung up before he got all heated up again.

And that's when I realized I was in trouble. I didn't actually have the bottle anymore. I had tossed it out into the trash back at the lot.

I thought about what I was going to tell him. I realized he'd never believe me if I told him the truth so I stopped at a 7-11 near my apartment and picked up an identical bottle of Snapple Peach Iced Tea and chugged it.

By the time I got home it had done the trick. I took the bottle inside and filled it up to what I was hoping was the same point he had that morning.

The next day, I showed up at the GS's house and sure enough, the first thing he did was ask me if I had the bottle. When we got to my car, I pointed to the cup holder and to the bottle I'd put in there that morning. He looked at it for a moment and I got scared he could somehow tell it wasn't the same bottle, wasn't his pee.

"Fine," he grunted.

It was the last thing he said to me all week.

*****

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PRAISE FOR WHERE'S MY F*CKING LATTE

"This book is a hilarious (and terrifying) read for anyone who works in– or wants to work in– the entertainment industry."

- CHAD GERVICH – TV Producer and author of "Small Screen, Big Picture: A Writer's Guide to the TV Business"